


March for Science (Bros)

by Magical_Destiny



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Feels, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I could go on but I think I've made the point about Tony & Bruce feels, March for Science, Pepper Potts (mentioned) - Freeform, Science Bros, Tony Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 13:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11163201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Destiny/pseuds/Magical_Destiny
Summary: A scientific treatise on the permanence of friendship. Case study: Bruce Banner and Tony Stark.





	March for Science (Bros)

**Author's Note:**

> _Thor: Ragnarok_ may blow my timeline for this fic to smithereens, because who even knows if Bruce was on earth during April 2017, but I don’t care. The Science Bros would have gone to the March for Science, and that’s an indisputable scientific fact. 
> 
> I attended the Women's March in DC, but I didn't go to the March for Science in DC. I combined my own experience with second hand info about the March for Science, so forgive me for any glaring errors! I wish I had been there. At least through fic, Tony and Bruce got to go. 
> 
> Finally, a huge thanks to [mrstater](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrstater/pseuds/mrstater) for betaing and offering lots of helpful suggestions. <3 
> 
> Without further ado, SCIENCE BROS.

_April 22, 2017_

Bruce picked a bus stop close to the edge of the city. It was a chilly morning, the light still weak and pale, especially filtered through the haze of silver clouds. He’d only walked a few feet, but his shoes were already wet with dew and humidity. Behind him, the bus doors screeched shut and it lumbered away down the street, still brimming with passengers. Most of them were bundled against the chill and bearing water bottles and bright protest signs. One had pressed their sign against a window instead of rolling it up for the drive. _SCIENCE = TRUTH,_ it read, in bold green letters. Bruce watched the sign until the bus turned a corner. 

He walked until he found a place where he could watch the stream of cars and buses swell into a thick and slow-moving current. A sea of protesters was flooding the capital, converging on the Washington Mall. Bruce couldn’t see the dome of the Capitol Building from his far off vantage point or pick out the towering Washington Monument against the sky. He was much too far away. The protesters streamed toward the March for Science, and Bruce couldn’t follow them any further. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to get even this close. Cities weren’t safe for him under any circumstances, especially not after he’d destroyed one a scant two years earlier. 

He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his oversized hoodie both to keep warm and to convince himself that he was contained. He hadn’t had a single incident since he’d gone off the grid. He could almost argue himself into believing that walking into the city long enough to join the protest was safe. 

Almost. 

He watched the traffic and strained his ears to listen for the protesters' chants. 

“Of all the protest marches in all the world,” said a voice behind him. “No sign, Bruce? Come on. Not even a simple ‘Go Green’? That’s just a missed opportunity.” 

Bruce locked his muscles against a start of surprise; recognition loosened them again. “Tony,” he said, and turned around. 

Tony Stark was draped over a bench, covering his identity from passersby with a large pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap that proclaimed _MAKE AMERICA GREEN AGAIN._ He was wearing an old lab coat over a hoodie — and a smirk.

God, Bruce had missed him. 

“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” Bruce asked, hands still firmly stowed in his pockets as he tried to tamp down the irrational desire to hug Tony. The loneliness got to be a bit much when you were off the grid and on the run. 

Tony nodded, watching more buses of protesters trundle by. He patted the bench beside him. 

Bruce eased himself down on the edge of the bench. After a moment, he leaned back and watched the traffic with Tony. Shared silence felt good after his lengthy experience with the solitary kind. 

“I didn’t think you’d come to this,” Tony said eventually, waving his index finger in a loose circuit. “You’ve been pretty determined to stay away from anything and everyone.”

Bruce didn’t answer. Up close, Tony looked a lot less arch and a lot more tired. The lines around his eyes were new. Even the sunglasses couldn’t quite hide the circles underneath them. But Tony was nearly inscrutable behind the lenses when he turned to Bruce. 

“You seem happy to see me. I wasn’t sure you would be. It’s—“ he paused, and faced the street again. A wide clump of protesters walked past at a quick clip, their colorful signs bobbing behind them. “It’s been a long time,” Tony added, more quietly. Bruce had to listen intently to hear him over the distant chorus of bus engines and car horns. “You didn’t call.”

No matter how much he prepared and told himself his actions were necessary, Bruce had never found a way to adequately brace for the moment his decisions hurt someone else. Betty, Natasha, Tony…each time was a sucker punch. But if you couldn’t brace for the blow, the only way to recover was to breathe through it and walk away. Bruce took a few deep and even breaths, letting the last rush out in a sigh. 

“I didn’t have anything to say,” he answered at last. Tony, who had watched Bruce carefully through his silence, looked away when he spoke. His own response was a long time coming. 

“Not even to me?”

Bruce flinched. He thought of the million individual things he’d wanted to tell Tony. Mostly apologies, at first. _I’m sorry I had to leave._ Once he’d neglected that first, most important message, it became almost impossible to imagine saying anything else. _I saw a t-shirt I knew you’d love today_ or _I read a shitty research article and you would have laughed._ Bruce had been so far away. Of _course_ he’d had things to say. And he hadn’t said any of them. 

Tony’s question hung in the air. 

Bruce let it dangle. “I saw the news. About what happened with Steve.”

Tony’s face twitched just slightly, like he was fighting an expression he didn’t want. A frown, maybe. He waved off Bruce’s question.

“I don’t want to talk about that. It’s over with, anyway.” 

Bruce nodded. _I’m sorry I wasn’t there,_ he didn’t say, no matter how much he wanted to. It, like so many things, couldn’t be helped. 

“How’s Pepper?” he asked instead. 

Tony _did_ frown this time, turning his face away to watch a snarled traffic jam slowly resolve itself. 

“We’re not—“ he started, still staring in the opposite direction. 

Bruce felt cold as he realized. If Tony’s face hadn’t given it away, the strain in his voice would have. 

“We’re on a break,” Tony finished at last, turning back to face him. He’d fished up a truly ghoulish approximation of a smile that made Bruce’s chest hurt. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and it wasn’t nearly adequate. 

Tony shrugged. “She isn’t. And that’s what matters. I wanted to send you care packages.” His words shifted as rapidly as his train of thought, and Bruce struggled to keep up. “Fly a drone straight to you with your favorite food or some warmer clothes. Like in the Hunger Games.” Tony trailed off, possibly realizing that Bruce had no idea what he was talking about. Or possibly just distracted by whatever emotion was gathering behind his eyes. It looked uncomfortably like sadness. “I can’t help you, though, can I?”

Bruce shook his head. _Nobody can help me._ He didn’t say the words to spare Tony as much as he could. Tony hated problems with no solution. 

Tony nodded. It was a small, brittle motion. “I didn’t think so,” he said. His silence was heavy. “Am I overstepping, being here?” he asked at last. “I saw you were here, and I wanted…Pepper says I have a tendency…well, I do.” He steeled himself and looked Bruce in the eye. “Am I overstepping, Bruce?”

Bruce thought distantly about the sharp ache Tony’s presence had caused in his chest. He hurt more than he had in a long time. Bruce considered the way a limb hurt when blood rushed back into the veins after being too long asleep. The price of sensation. 

“No,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

Tony looked a little less gray when he smiled in response. He was still awfully haggard for a billionaire and an Iron Man. 

“You’re not taking care of yourself, Tony,” he observed, not quite able to turn it into a reproof. 

Tony snorted. “Physician,” he muttered, “Heal thyself.” 

Bruce smiled at that. In front of him, the buses full of protesters were fewer and farther between. The angle of the light had changed, proving the progression of the morning even if the wall of clouds kept the sun itself hidden. 

“Let’s walk,” Tony said suddenly, already moving. Bruce hurried after him, anticipating his usual frenetic pace, but Tony seemed content to amble along the sidewalk. Everything was a dismal gray: the stained sidewalk, the stone-faced buildings, the silver sky. Bruce thought he could hear protester’s chants a few blocks away, even though they were nowhere near the Mall. A few drops of rain sprinkled his cheeks, chilling him, but the rain never properly began. They walked a few blocks in silence. 

“You’ve been self-flagellating,” Bruce concluded, the result of several minutes of study. Tony, always ready with a quip or a comeback, didn’t contradict him. Bruce sighed. “Pepper would tell you not to do that.” 

“Well she’s not here to say it, is she?” Tony answered, his tone flat and sharp as a blade. His shoulders slumped and the edge left his voice, giving way to something shapeless and tired. “So what am I supposed to do?”

Bruce absorbed that, feeling the pained words like an echo in the hollow of his chest. “Guess I’ll have to say it instead,” he answered. “Not that you’d listen to either of us.” 

Tony’s laugh was dampened, but genuine. They walked on in an easier silence. 

Bruce studied the few hints of green erupting against the gray world. Trees, bushes, and flowers penned by stone, surrounded by asphalt. Residual rain and dew dripped from the leaves. 

“Natasha’s fine,” Tony said suddenly. 

Bruce felt his equilibrium tip; his steps faltered as he re-centered himself. After a moment, he started walking again, ignoring Tony’s knowing look. 

“I didn’t ask,” Bruce observed, proud of the level tone he managed. 

Tony smirked at him. It was only the ghost of his usual snark, but it was comforting all the same. “You were _not asking_ very loudly,” he said, and mercifully let the subject drop. “You know you can call me right?” he asked instead. “Any time?” He paused beside whatever gray stone government building they were strolling past — Bruce couldn’t see the signs from here — and dropped himself down on the low stone barrier that bordered the sidewalk. “I would call you, but you don’t have a phone. And I thought you might object to me sending notes by drone. Don’t think I haven’t considered it, though.” 

Bruce sank down next to him and thought about the prospect of Tony sending him notes, probably written in his indecipherable scrawl. _Do you want to get schwarma? Check yes or no._ Bruce couldn’t help his grin. 

“I know, Tony,” he answered. 

Tony nodded. “Okay, but do you know that I _want_ you to call me? About anything. Hell, make something up. Not that you’d have to because I _know_ you’ve got plenty of thoughts in your head that you haven’t shared with me. It’s been years. Just thinking about how many theorems and prototypes you’ve probably thought up in that time is turning me on. Talk dirty to me, Bruce.” 

Bruce laughed and Tony finally cracked a smile that didn’t look painful. 

“Or you could even let me know how you’re doing once in a while,” Tony added after a moment. 

Bruce swallowed and gave a slow nod. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.” 

Tony clapped him on the shoulder and turned to watch the nearest intersection. “Let’s go that way,” he said, leading the way. When they began to pass roadblocks that kept traffic away, Bruce realized they were heading straight for the protest. He halted. 

“Tony, I can’t.” 

“We’ll stay on the edge of the action,” Tony answered smoothly, but Bruce could hear the eagerness in his tone. “If things get too intense, I’ll fly you out of here.” He pulled back the sleeve of his lab coat to reveal one of the slim silver cuffs that could summon his suits. “If anybody recognizes us, same deal. I won’t let anything happen to you or anybody else.” 

Bruce stared at the cuff, at the lab coat, at Tony’s ridiculous hat, at the gaggle of protesters he could see marching at the other end of the street, just close enough that he could read the biggest signs. Tony followed his gaze. 

“Well would you look at that,” he said, pointing to a massive sign with simple block letters. 

_PARDON BRUCE BANNER_

“Did you plant that?” Bruce asked quietly. 

“No, but now I’m mad I didn’t think of it. My creative mind stagnates without you, Bruce.” 

Bruce laughed again — when was the last time he'd laughed this much? — and scanned the forest of signs bobbing over the roiling sea of protesters. Signs about climate change and support for the EPA. Clever signs, simple signs, some blunt, some understated. They watched the crowd surge past. 

“What do you say, Bruce?” Tony asked, and waited for his answer. 

Bruce was distracted. At the edge of the crowd, two young people wearing costume lab coats and Avengers t-shirts were holding up a sign printed with oversized photos of Tony and Bruce. Behind them, drawn like stretching shadows, were the outlines of both Iron Man and the Other Guy. The caption was simple. Just a single word in all caps: _SCIENCE._

When he finally looked back at Tony, he’d seen it too. His smile was delighted. “Come on, Bruce. We’ll get out of here if we have to. I’ll take you all the way to the moon if that will make you feel better. Just—“ he trailed off and sighed, his enthusiasm giving way to the melancholy he’d brought with him. “I really want to do this with you.”

Bruce looked at him. “To the moon?” he said at last. 

“To the moon,” Tony confirmed, and grinned. “By the way,” he added, shrugging out of the lab coat. “I knew you wouldn’t make a sign or dress thematically — for shame, Bruce — so I brought this for you.” He held out the lab coat. It was wrinkled and smelled a little like dust. There were two stains on the right sleeve. One from an acidic compound and one from the tacos Tony had shared with him…

“That’s…” Bruce started. 

“Yours,” Tony finished. “I brought it for you.” 

Bruce barely had time to pull it on before Tony all but dragged him to the edge of the crowd and immediately joined the coarsest chant he could hear. For a moment, Bruce only watched him. 

The shape of the world had changed since the last time they were together. He’d left Natasha without a word, the Avengers had nearly disintegrated, Pepper had walked away from Tony, and they were marching for science because apparently facts were open to challenge now. The whole _world_ felt like it was being challenged. Luckily, Bruce had gotten used to nothing being certain a long time ago. But maybe, he thought, looking at Tony and his determined face, his ridiculous hat, and his hand latched onto Bruce’s elbow to keep from losing him in the crowd…maybe some things would never change.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, WHY do I write so much angsty!Tony? Sigh. Secondly, I haven't written Science Bros in ages and I missed them. Thirdly...maybe you'd like to comment? ;)


End file.
